Luyện nghe bài hát English Fire

Seven brides serve me seven
Seven writhe for me
Orient gates to Rlyeh
Abydos to

And Sirens sing from
But now I to play
For I yearn to return to woodland
Where Herne and his huntress lay

Now the tidal are turning, spurning the
The great of distinguished tours
Are but stills in time to the that Im once more
to the bedding of her English shores

The wind bickered in mill sails
Eyes flickered in deep thickets of
And mists clung in panic to vales
When Brigantia her soul to me

Imbolg to Bealtaine
Lughnasadh to Samhain
I heard her as seasons blent
a chimerical beast

Now the are turning churning in darkness
The celebrations of wars
Are but stills in time to the chill that climbs more
Dreading the red weddings on her English

Gone are the summers of my youth
Cruel winters cut their throats
With polished scythes reap worldwide
black skies and forest smoke

And the hosts I saw there
Drones of law
the ghosts of my forbears
To and rally once more

One of her from the vast far flung
home to rebuild
The rampant line of the
Risen pestilent fields

Now the are turning burning in darkness
The salvation of her sword
Shalt spill like wine the hills to chines that pour
Spreading her on these English shores

For the hosts that I saw
of carrion law
Drove the ghosts of my
To and rally once more

This is a for England
From its doze
is a waking for England
Lest hope and glory are regarded as